Life's An Uphill Battle
by ContestingGirl
Summary: Carly Johnson has seen more in her twenty-five years than most people see in a life time. Her experiences have left her battle hardened and untrusting. When she stumbles upon Rick's group they welcome her with relative ease, but Carly isn't ready to trust her new comrades right off the bat. What happens when Carly starts to catch Rick's eye? Eventual Rick/OC, first fanfic!
1. Chapter One

**Welcome to _Life's An Uphill Battle_!**

**This is my first fanfic, so it might be alittle rough at first. Please let me know if I have any major errors, I will try to fix them! Also be sure to review and let me know what you think. This story takes place around the time of season 3, it will not follow the tv events though some things may pop up. I am basically using the characters and setting for an entirely different plot that involves several OC's. This will eventually be a Rick/OC story, sorry Lori but I don't really like you.**

**I only own my OC's, anything TWD belongs to AMC!**

**-ContestingGirl ;-P**

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My breath comes hard and fast as I sprint through the thick Georgia woods with my wavy golden blonde hair flying behind me. I can hear the heavy footfalls of the men pursuing me which causes me to push my long legs faster. They are far slower than I but have guns, where as I have nothing to protect myself with. The only reason I've even survived it this far is my intelligence, ability to go unseen, and athleticism. I actually earned a full ride scholarship to NKU for track, not that it really matters anymore. Nothing matters anymore for that matter.

The sound of gunfire startles me and I dive sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding a bullet. My chest feels as if it is about to explode, as does my head. Black begins to cover the outer edges of my vision and I desperately try to free my storm grey eyes of the annoying film. The forest makes a steep drop before me and not wanting to take any chances I launch myself over the edge. When my feet slam to the ground I take off at a dead sprint again, only this time my knees are killing me. Unable to jump down the steep drop, the men fire their guns after me. One bullet whizzes past my head causing me to stumble and fall.

Desperately I try to push myself up but fall back to the ground in exhaustion. Another bullet hits just to my left, giving me enough incentive to pull myself to my feet and start off at a dead sprint again. I don't look back as I tear through thick undergrowth and don't stop even after the sound of gunfire has long since passed. Fear alone drives my exhausted body forward. I don't want to be anywhere nears those vicious men, or biters (as I've come to call the reanimated dead) who will be moving towards the sound of the guns.

As dawn approaches, I find myself weak and exhausted. The sound of water draws me and I am greeted by the sight of a clear, deep stream. Unable to continue any longer I collapse by its edge and am lost to darkness.

_Dream_

_I sit upon an old tire swing beneath and equally old oak as a young girl, maybe ten. My small face is buried deep within one of my favorite childhood novels, __**Anne of Greene Gable **__and light breeze tosses my blond curls, much to my younger self's dismay. _

_In the distance, my mother steps out onto the wrap around porch of our old farm house and calls out to me, "Carly! Dinner's ready!"_

_My little head shoots up immediately and I tear down the hill towards the house. I bound up the stairs on my freakishly long legs and slide past my mother, whose green eyes sparkle down at me as I pass. In the kitchen my older sister Lucy and my younger brother Jesse are already seated at the table with my father. A plethora of food is placed upon the table, waiting for us to eat after prayer._

_Once I am seated my father bows his head and begins, "Bless us oh Lord and these, your gifts, which we are about to receive through your bounty our Christ, our Lord. Amen."_

"_Amen," we chorus in unison before digging into the meal. Jesse quickly scoops all of the mashed potatoes onto his plate which causes the rest of us to chuckle. Our light banter is interrupted by the sound of the front door banging open. A gruff looking man steps into the kitchen, a scowl upon his face. _

"_I would like to speak with you Greg Johnson…."_

_My father cuts him off quickly and gives him a hard stare, "Let's take this outside shall we."_

_The man clenches his jaw but nods. I look to my mother curiously and notice her terrified expression. Fear begins to worm its way into my stomach and I ask my mother in my ten year old voice, "Mama, why does that man want Daddy?"_

_She shakes her head uncertainly but replies in a calm voice, "I'm not sure baby. He used to work for you Daddy training' the horses, but he was mean to the horses so we had to fire him."_

"_Was he meaning to Pepper!" I shout. No one dared lay a hand on my pony._

_My mother gives a smile, "No he didn't touch Pepper. He dealt with the barrel horses, not your pony."_

"_Good."_

_My mother simply shakes her head at me and smiles. After that our conversation returns to normal, until we hear the loud sound of a gunshot. I jump from my chair in fright and am immediately running towards the door. Next thing I know I'm being held down by Lucy as Mamma runs out instead. From my place under my sister I hear the loud cry of my mother and the sputtering of an old engine as barrels down a gravel drive. _

_End Dream/Memory_

My eyes bolt open and sit up rapidly. I find myself gasping for breath and trying desperately not to cry. It has been a long time since I dreamed about my father's death or any memory for that matter. I was ten years old when he was shot by an angry ex-ranch hand, Franklin Harvel, and was killed. We never saw the man again, and neither did authorities. He simply disappeared.

Life was difficult for a long time after that. My mother tried to keep the farm going, but she didn't know the first thing about breeding good barrel horses. By the time I was fourteen we were completely broke. The bank took over the farm and we were forced to say our goodbyes. From there we went to Cincinnati where my mother was offered a job at P&G. I was able to continue riding, but found it hard to trust people enough to make friends.

My first year of high school is when I really hit rock bottom. I started getting into drugs and drinking around that time. A party I was at got out of hand and the cops were called, I was found in the possession of pot and spent the night in jail with a warning that if I was caught again I would be arrested and tried for drug possession.

In an attempt to get me into something else my mother forced me onto the track team. At first I despised it, but my coach saw potential and introduced me to high jump. There I met a senior by the name of David Harper. He saw something in me that many people didn't and helped me turn my life around in a matter of weeks. By the end of that track season I had risen in the ranks to become one of the best sprinters and high jumpers in the state. From there I managed to get back on the right track, graduating high school as the valedictorian and getting a full ride to NKU where I majored in Wildlife Biology.

When the world went to shit I was on my way to vacation in Florida and had decided to stay in Atlanta for a few days. Being a young 25 year old I largely ignored the news reports, until the dead began to come back to life before my very eyes. I didn't even think when I jumped into my old Ford pick-up and barreled out of Atlanta. My gas didn't last very long, hence the fact I am still in Georgia and not Ohio but at least I'm out of the thick of it.

The world is actually pretty peaceful here. Not too many biters come this way and the ones that do I'm able to out run with ease. I wish I had a gun, but I didn't have one with me at the time of my escape from Atlanta and there aren't exactly any gun depots in the woods. Growing up on a farm had its advantages; one of them is being able to shoot a gun with deadly accuracy. What can I say; my father was an avid hunter. My siblings and I were shooting the moment we could walk.

I heave out a tired sigh and push myself to my feet. There's no sense in dwelling here for too long. In the wild ride that was last night I lost my backpack that had all my supplies, so I literally have nothing. No food, no water and no way to get it either. Which means I'm going to either A. find a highway so I can scavenge cars or B. find a town so I can scavenge stores. Neither idea appeals to me. Highways and towns are usually crawling with biters, which is why I am in the woods in the first place.

If I remember correctly my map said that there was a prison not too far from where I had been and I ran north all night, which had been the direction of the prison so I shouldn't be too far from it. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if the place was overrun but it's still worth a shot. Before I start off I decide to climb a tall pine tree in hopes of seeing the prison in the distance to better know which direction I need to travel in.

Carefully I place my feet and hands on different branches and begin to climb. Thankfully, I don't weigh all that much and am able to make it above the other trees in height. Sure enough in the distance I can see a lone guard tower looming above the forest. Forgotten out here in the middle of now where, most likely with all its prisoners still inside. Deciding not to dwell on such morbid thoughts I climb down from my perch and set off at a jog. I want to reach the prison before nightfall and get out as fast as possible. Speed is going to be vital if I want to go unnoticed. Let's just hope my luck doesn't turn sour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to Chapter Two!**

**This Chapter is a quite a bit longer than the first and is probably around the length the upcoming chapters will be as well. Carly gets to meet up with TWD group in this chapter. Yay! ****Also remember, this story will not follow the events of season three it actually takes place afterwards. Since season three isn't over, some people may be dead in the TV show that aren't dead in this story!**

**P.S. I don't own anything TWD, just my OC's :)**

**ContestingGirl**

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The sky is nearly dark when the prison comes into view. A high fence topped with barbed wire surrounds the facility, making it nearly impossible to escape but not impossible to get in. The guard tower looks smaller than it did from a distance and has flood lights that illuminate the center of the prison yard, but leave the corners pitch black. My best bet will be to climb the fence in one of those corners.

Getting out will be the hard part. The prison's gate is made of thick steel, impossible to move by oneself. I will have to get inside the guard tower to open it, and from where I stand it looks as though the people living here have instituted a watch system. Two men stand atop the tower, both heavily armed. A few people also mill lazily about the prison yard making mindless chatter about nothing in particular. It must be nice not to have to fear for your life every second of every day.

Quietly I make my way towards the far end of the prison, as far away from the tower as possible. I exam the fence for a moment and then begin to climb. The minute I begin to move the fence rattles; causing me to hold my breath in fear. No one seems to notice though, and I continue to climb this time a little bit more carefully. Once I reach the top I position myself so that I can avoid the dangerous barbed wire as best as possible. My first leg goes over with ease, but as I am starting to swing my second one over I lose my balance and snag my leg on the wire. I don't give myself time to look at my wound when I hit the ground.

People come rushing in the direction of the sound with their weapons raised. My heart beats traitorously in my chest and blood runs down my leg in torrents. I have myself backed into a corner as far as possible in hopes that the shadows will conceal me.

A burly man holding an impressive looking cross bow kneels to the ground where I fell. His hand come away covered in crimson blood, my blood. I hold my breath, as though it will help me now. The man turns directly towards me and crouches low to the ground; apparently I left a blood trail. I am screwed. No doubt about it.

The entire group begins to slowly make their way in my direction and have surprisingly yet to see me. Slowly I get into a crouch and prepare to run. My leg burns in protest, but I ignore it. The group moves closer still. They're so close in fact, that I can see their features. This entire group is relatively attractive, unlike many of the groups I've come across in the past. It's kind of strange really.

Suddenly, a handsome blue eyed man who appears to be in his early thirties spots me. For a split second piercing blue meets storm grey and then I'm launching myself forward at a dead sprint. The group yelps in bewilderment at my sudden appearance.

Me being me I can't help but shout, "Hola!" over my shoulder as I fly past.

All behind me I can hear the sounds of safeties being clicked off and a lone crossbow being drawn. I push myself even faster towards the far fence in hopes I will be able to clear it. At the sound of gunfire I throw my body to the left and let out a cry of pain when a bullet grazes my shoulder. I am beginning to panic when I reach the fence. Quickly I begin to climb. This time when I hear a gun go off I am unable to move quickly enough and a bullet imbeds itself in my shoulder. My body tumbles to the ground in a tangled heap.

I desperately try to push myself up but find it impossible to do so. My chest feels as though an elephant is sitting on top of me and I struggle to draw in a good breath. Suddenly the face of a handsome man is beside my own. I can see his mouth moving, but can't make out the words he is saying. The last thing I see before darkness overtakes me is a pair of angry blue eyes.

-The Next Day -

The first thing I notice when I regain consciousness is the cool metal against my wrists. Immediately I try to move away from the cold, but quickly find I can't move my arms very far. Hand cuffs. My eyes shoot open and I throw my body forward only to stop when excruciating pain runs through my shoulder.

Blood is caked down my side and an open wound greats my eyes. My leg is also still gaping open and bleeding quite a lot. I fight the urge to gag at the sight of my wounds. Quickly I turn my attention elsewhere. It appears as though I am in a prison cell chained to a bed. Fantastic.

The man who had the cross bow earlier is walking towards my cell with a grimace on his face. Something tells me he isn't looking to have a nice chat about the weather. I push against my restraints in panic, being tortured is not my idea of fun. My shoulder hurts more than I can even describe and I bite my lip to keep from screaming. He walks into the cell without the slightest care to my panicked state.

The man saunters up to me and kneels down so that his watery blue eyes are even with mine, "Where is the rest of your group?"

I stare just past his head and remain silent. There's no way I'm answering this assholes questions.

"I said where is your group?" he repeats with more venom in his voice, as if that is going to scare me. In impatience he smacks me hard across the face. Okay, that is enough to scare me. Quickly I shrink away from him as far as possible. I eye him with hatred and distrust.

"I don't have a group!" I growl angrily at him, "I never have!"

"You expect me to believe, that a young woman like yourself has been surviving in the woods with no weapons? If that's the case you're either lying or you're crazy."

"Well I ain't lyin' if that's what you're implying Mr." I give a huff of annoyance.

"So tell me then, how have you managed to stay alive this far?" His voice is laced with sarcasm, which only serves to anger me further.

I decide not to acknowledge him anymore. If he's going to be nasty, then I'm not going to respond. Plus, I don't think telling him my survival strategy will be all that beneficial to my future if I ever escape this hell hole. The man is getting angry with my silence and paces before me. Suddenly, a gun is being pointed directly in my face. I don't even flinch.

Why should I? Maybe, it would be easier if he did shoot me. Quick and easy, here one minute gone the next. Sure be a heck of a lot less painful than being mauled to death by a biter, only to return as biter yourself. I hear the safety click off and take a deep breath. I am going to die.

"Daryl! What the hell are you doing!" a deep voice laced with an irresistible country accent shouts across the cell.

My eyes snap open to see the handsome blue eyed man from earlier. "You were supposed to ask her questions not threaten to kill her. Remember, we don't kill the living."

"Thought you said, 'That was before the living tried to kill us.' " The man who's pointing the gun at my forehead fires back.

I grit my teeth and snarl, "I wasn't trying to kill you! I was scavenging for supplies for Christ's sake! There aren't enough people left to kill!"

For the first time since he entered the room the other man addresses me, "Calm down. We don't want to cause you any more damage than what has already been done."

"It doesn't look that way to me. What with the gun pointed at my forehead!" I stare at the man who is apparently named Daryl when I say the last part. Slowly he lowers the gun and storms out of the cell with a grimace on his face.

"Don't worry about Daryl. He's just not real friendly with outsiders. Last time we had one, the farm we were on got over run."

"At least you have a place to call home. Some of us out there have nothing." I say bitterly.

The man gives a dark almost crazed chuckle and replies, "You have no idea."

I eye him with curiosity, "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

He shakes his head of dark hair, "It's a long story."

I give a shrug of my shoulders which causes pain to shoot through my bad shoulder. A gasp of pain manages to worm its way through my teeth. The man gently comes over to me and takes a key from his pocket and undoes the handcuffs. I gently rub my red wrists and fold them in my lap.

"You should go see Hershel to get you wounds fixed up before you lose any more blood." He says as he makes his way towards the door, "And by the way my name is Rick."

"Mine's Carly." I say with a nod of my head, "Wait, who's Hershel?"  
He gives a chuckle, "Old man, white hair, and looks kind of like Santa Claus. You can't miss him."

I give a final nod of my head before he walks out of the cell, leaving the door open behind him.

-Later That Day-

It would've been nice if Rick had given me directions, but no he just walked out of the cell without a good bye. Sure Hershel himself might be unmistakable, but getting around this place is certainly difficult. Throw in a bum leg and navigating this place is absolute hell.

I ran into a nice Oriental looking guy named Glen who directed me towards the prison yard not too long ago. He said Hershel would probably be out there. Thank God some people in this group aren't total ass holes, aka Daryl.

Sure enough following Glen's directions have led me straight to the yard. When I step outside several people wave at me. I am taken aback by their kind gestures and simply choose not to acknowledge them. My eyes scan the expansive yard and eventually lock on a man with a head of white walking the perimeter. Quickly I jog out to him, despite the pain that shoots through my leg.

The man's head swivels in my direction as I approach and I questioningly say, "Hershel?"

"Yes. Is there something I could do for you Miss?"

I nod hesitantly and reply, "Yeah, I need to get my shoulder and leg patched up. Rick said I should come see you."

He shakes his head, "Told Rick that I should've stitched you up the minute you passed out. He was insistent that we question you first to make sure you weren't a threat. Can't say I blame him, you look kinda rough round' the edges."

I'm not sure if I should take his comment as an insult or a statement and decide not to comment any further on my somewhat wild appearance. Instead I direct the conversation towards him, "So where you a doctor before the world basically ended."

He laughs, "No I was a veterinarian."

"I always wanted to be a vet when I was a little girl, became a Wildlife Biologist instead," I say absentmindedly.

"Come one, we should get you patched up before you get an infection." He says waving me back towards the prison.

Once we get inside he leads me down a short corridor to another set of barracks. These look to be inhabited. There are clothes strewn about several cells and the beds are all slept in. At the end of the isle is a large doorway which opens up into a small clinic of sorts. Hershel quickly gestures for me to sit on the stainless steel table at the center of the room.

"So this is the infirmary I'm guessing."

"Yeah, it's not much I know but we make do with what we have," He replies.

"It's far better than having nothing." I say with a shrug of my shoulders. The pain hardly bothers me now because I've gotten so used to it.

Hershel holds up a needle and thread and smiles apologetically, "Wish we had something to numb you, but supplies are runnin' low. I would be lying if I said this wasn't going to hurt."

"Don't worry about it; I've faced a lot worse than a few stitches. By the way, did you already take the bullet out of my shoulder?"

"Yes, that was the only thing Rick was comfortable letting me do to you." Hershel says calmly as he begins to stitch up my leg.

The pain makes me bite my lip, but other than that it isn't unbearable. For the rest of the time Hershel is stitching my leg we remain silent. It is not an uncomfortable silence but a rather comfortable one, in which neither party really feels as though talking is necessary. So far, out of the people I've met Hershel is probably my favorite. His obvious love for animals gives me something in common with him which is more than I can say for the rest of the group, whom I know so little about.

Once he's done Hershel looks up from my leg and says, "You might have a scar but at least your risk for infection isn't as high. Plus you still have your leg."

His last comment takes me off guards, "Do you not have both legs?"

He lets out a laugh, "That got you interested. And to answer your question, no. I lost one of my legs to a walker not too long after we got to this prison. Merle Dixon helped me to make a rough prosthetic about a month back so that I could walk better."

"So, do you have to stitch my shoulder or are you just going to bandage it?"

"Normally, I'd stitch it but we're running low on thread so I'm just going to bandage it."

I give a nod of my head and let silence take over again. Once Hershel's entirely finished fixing me up I decide to head out into the prison yard to meet the rest of the group. While I'm healing I don't have much of a choice but to stay, might as well know the people I will be sleeping with.

When I get to the prison yard, I notice Rick standing with a young baby girl in his arms and a young boy of about ten standing near his side. They must be his family I conclude, but I notice the lack of a wife and find myself wondering where she might be. Glen quickly rushes up to my side and begins to make conversation, effectively tearing my attention away from Rick and his family.

"So did you find Hershel?" He asks in a vibrant manner that reminds me so much of my younger brother.

I give a light laugh and shake my head at his youthful energy, "Yes, thanks for the directions by the way. I'm pretty sure I would've been lost forever if you hadn't helped me out."

"I doubt that. You seem like a pretty sharp person Carly. And damn, you are fast as hell. Seriously when you ran from us last night I thought for sure you had to have been on the Olympic Team! You were injured too."

"I was good at one time, but not that good." I say, deciding to let him draw his own conclusions about what I meant. The sky is starting to get a little dark so I bid Glen farewell and head off to walk around.

The prison is peaceful compared to what I'm used to. It's actually kind of nice knowing that I will actually have a meal to eat tonight. I haven't had anything to eat for the past two days and the effects are starting to show. My ribs are more prominent as is my already crazily prominent collar bone. I still have my well-toned muscles and if I have to say so myself don't look all that bad, I'm just skinnier than I would like to be.

The young boy who was standing beside Rick earlier comes jogging up to me, "My dad told me to come and tell you that dinner's ready."

"Thanks for letting me know…."

"Carl, my name's Carl." He replies to my pause.

A grin makes its way onto my face, "Hey, did you ever watch _Llamas with Hats_ by any chance?"

The boy lets out a laugh, "Yes my friends used to bug me with it all the time! Please tell me you didn't watch it."

"Oh I did, in fact I watched every single episode… multiple times." I say with a devilish grin.

He quickly slaps his hands over his ears as though guessing what I was about to do and takes off towards the prison. I follow suit behind him shouting at the top of my lungs in the best Paul impersonation I can muster, "CARRRLLLLL!"

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**Soooo, how did you like it? Personally, I love the last scene with Carly and Carl. I couldn't resist putting in a reference from _Llamas with Hats,_ seriously love those crazy Llamas! It might have seemed like Carl was majorly OOC, but I want to make him seem a little less brutal and little more like the little boy he should be. I know a lot of people will not like how I have Carly disliking Daryl, but he did stick a gun in her face after all. I promise she won't hate him forever! This chapter basically chronicled her first day at the prison, the upcoming chapters will cover more.**

**Next Chapter- I promise there will be a little more Carly and Rick interaction, as well as interaction with the rest of the group. **

**P.S. all reviewers, keep em' coming! I love me some reviews!**

**ContestingGirl aka THE BEST MOST AMAZING PERSON IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Easter! **

**I hope you enjoy the new chapter! There's a little bit more Carly/Rick interaction in this chapter, so that's good. Also this week I'm on spring break so I will try to make updates every few days. After that though, updates may take a week or more because of school, track, and horse riding. I am busy person! Remember to review and follow!**

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_Dream/Memory_

_My feet pound against the pavement furiously and my hair whips around my face. I dive down an alleyway and slam a familiar figure up against the wall. My younger brother's bewildered blue eyes stare into my furious grey ones._

"_Wha…what are you doing here?" He stutters in confusion._

"_Trying to save your ass!" I growl in rage._

_Jesse's eyes turn cold and distant after I say that, and he bites back furiously, "I don't need saving from you or anybody! I'm eighteen; I can take care of myself."_

"_Just because you're eighteen doesn't mean you can take care of yourself Jesse! You want to know why I'm here? I was tipped off by George that one of your little druggie friends had turned you into the cops for amnesty in a court case! Your deal that you were just about to walk up to was a trap! You'd be in the back of a police car right now if it wasn't for me!"_

_Jesse shoves me off of him and brushes his shaggy blonde hair from his eyes, "You're not mom, Carly! Stop trying to act like it."_

"_I might not be Mom, but I'm the best you've got Jesse. I'm just trying to look out for you. Why don't you just get in the car with me and we can go home."_

"_Has it ever occurred to you Carly that I might not want to go home? That every time I walk into that house I think of Mom! Or, I think of you coming home drunk at fifteen!"_

_I feel myself swell with anger at his last sentence, "That was a low point in my life Jesse! It's what I'm trying to save you from, once you go down that path it's hard to turn back. I was able to, but I don't know if you would!"_

_Suddenly Jesse's fist is flying into my face. I feel my back slam into the wall behind me and clutch my face. My brother's face is covered with sudden remorse, but I shout, "Fine! If that's how you're going to act don't expect to see me ever again! I'm done!"_

_With that I turn back down the alley way and sprint back to my car. As I drove away I didn't know it would be the last time I saw my brother. A month later the dead started to rise from the grave and I became stranded in Georgia._

_End Dream/Memory_

Slowly I open my eyes and sit up to find myself in my cell at the prison, not back in Cincinnati. It's been about a month since I first arrived at the prison, and everyone is really nice but I still get the vibe that they're hiding something from me. Not a day has gone by where I don't think about my family. Is Jesse still alive? What about Lucy and her family?

Sometimes, I even wonder if they worry about me. Where I am, or if I'm alive? Sometimes I'll scream in my sleep and Rick will come wake me up with this pitiful look on his face. I hate when people give me that look. They don't even know what causes me to scream. It's the memories, my father's death or me running down the streets in the dead of night in an attempt to save my little brother from a horrible fate.

By day, I usually work alongside Glen making repairs or checking the perimeter. He usually talks my ear off about his new wife Maggie and their many adventures through the apocalypse. I don't offer much from my past, it's too painful and complicated to share with people who I barely now. My leg is totally healed as is my shoulder, and I think that I will be leaving any day now.

I'm not sure I want to leave the protection that living in a group provides, but I long for the freedom beyond the prison walls. Staying in one place for too long never did suit me. Sometimes I'll look over at Glen and I think he thinks the same thing, probably for an entirely different reason though.

Since I've been here I've heard whispers about someone called The Governor and a place called Woodbury. That's all I've heard though, whispers. Something tells me that something went down between Rick and this mystery man not too long ago. I haven't seen anything of him or his people, so I don't give The Governor much thought.

Currently, Glen and I are making our usual rounds around the perimeter. In about five minutes we will be replaced by Rick and Daryl. I have yet to reconcile Daryl for his harsh treatment of me, though he seems to have warmed up slightly to the idea of me.

I notice Glen watching me from the corner of his eye and turn to face him with a curious glance of my own, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," He says with a shake of his head, "It's just that your very different than most people I've met."

I raise an eye brow, "Oh really. How am I so different from the other people you've met?"

"Well for one, your very quiet but not in a shy sort of way. It makes you look powerful, if that even makes any sense. And your also very guarded around us, but you'll walk up to Carl and have a full blown conversation. I just….can't figure you out."

I let out a bark-like laugh, "Have you ever thought that perhaps that was my intention? To keep you in the dark about my motives."

Glen looks at me for a moment and then shakes his head, "See what I mean? You keep people guessing. Everything that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. It's like you enjoy seeing people confused!"

I am about to fire back when I see Rick and Daryl walking out to relieve us. "Chit-Chat time's over. Time for lunch!" I shout over my shoulder as trot away.

Once I'm in sight of the main prison yard I slow to a walk. Carl sees me and waves happily at me, which I return with ease. He is a good kid, maybe a tad brutal at times but still a good kid once you get down to the heart of things. Over the past month I've become quite close to him. We've gone off to the more secluded part of the prison a few times and practiced shooting. I've come to find he is a great shot for being so young. Out of all the people in this place he would probably be one of my first choices for backup.

Back home, I had a nephew who was right around Carl's age, named Tyler. He had been Lucy and Andrew's pride and joy. Tyler had been a straight A student with excellent athletic potential. I wish now that I had gotten to spend more time with him, but with my bad past and sometimes volatile nature Lucy didn't like me seeing him all that often.

Lucy had been the golden child out of all of us, in my mother's eyes. She never turned to drugs or alcohol as Jesse and I had, but she hadn't shone nearly as bright on the athletic scene as my brother and I did. Overall Lucy was average. I think she always felt bitter towards us for that. Oh well, the past is the past no sense in dwelling on it now.

Carl jogs up to me with his signature cowboy hat in place and says in a surprisingly chirper tone, "Hey, do you maybe wanna go down and shoot later this week? My dad said that he and a group might make a supply run, so I'd be free for the next couple days."

"Sure. Sound like fun to me. Your dad recently lent me one of the assault rifles to use and I haven't had a chance to shoot it yet." I say with an enthusiastic shrug.

Carl gives a calm nod of his head and walks off. That wasn't weird at all, I think with a chuckle to myself. Carl can be so strange sometimes. One minute he's acting like a normal kid the next he does something that makes you think twice about whether he's really a kid or some tiny adult. I guess that's what this world will do to you though, make you grow up ten times faster than you originally would've.

The next person I see is Hershel. I haven't had a whole lot of time to talk to him since I first got here, but he's always nice to me when we do. He looks to be deep in thought about something so I decide it's best not to bother him.

Seeing as no one else is outside, I make my way into the barracks section of the prison. My cell is right next to Rick's, probably so he can make sure I don't go all serial killer in the middle of the night. What with my screaming and all. I actually feel really bad that these poor people have to listen to me scream in my sleep; I can't imagine it's a very pleasant experience.

Unlike the rest of the cells mine still looks rather unlived in. I make my bed every day, mostly just for something to do. Plus I don't really have anything of my own to lie around the place. Carol was kind enough to find me some clothes. The first time I wore them Rick looked like he was about to snap. Turns out Carol gave me some of his dead wife's clothes. Not the best move on her part, but they were the only clothes that even remotely fit me. I try not to wear the clothes any more than I have to and resort often times to my old, stained lime green tank top and tattered pair of jean shorts.

Deciding that I have some time before I need to do anything I lay down on top of my made bed and close my eyes in hopes of finding some sleep.

-Rick's POV-

Daryl and I walk side by side for a while, neither of us saying a word. I can tell he still doesn't trust Carly and knows that I am going to suggest we bring her on the supply run. She is faster than all of us combined and is deadly accurate with a gun; I think it would be foolish not to bring her. I already know he's going to argue that she obviously doesn't trust us, and that it would be equally stupid to bring someone that is very likely to shoot one of us to save herself.

Still I decide to bring it up, "I know you don't trust her Daryl but I think we should take Carly on the supply run. She's fast and she's good with a gun, plus if we take her it's putting one less of our people in danger."

Daryl immediately stiffens beside me and stops walking, "I think you're asking' for trouble with her, Rick. She obviously doesn't trust us, what do think's gonna stop her from puttin' a bullet in one of our backs?"

"I don't think she'd be stupid enough to shoot the people who are helping her. She might be crazy, but I don't peg her for someone stupid." I say with conviction.

Daryl stays quiet for a moment and then says, "Fine. If you wanna take her, take her but I'm not comin' along just to get shot in the back. Take Glen or Maggie instead. I don't wanna be within a mile radius of that girl when she's gotta weapon in 'er hands."

I give a nod of my head and walk ahead of Daryl, giving him time to cool off from our encounter. At dinner I'll round up the group. It may be a couple days journey to the next town past Woodbury, but for the time being the people of Woodbury have decided to leave us alone if we leave them alone. I don't want to stir up any more trouble by asking for supplies when we are just fine scavenging from an outlaying town.

As I walk my thoughts drift Carly. She is perhaps the strangest woman I have met in my entire life. Not once have I seen her start a conversation unless prompted and never has she given away anything about herself or her past. Just about every night I wake up to the sound of her screaming and rush into her cell to wake her from her dream. I fear about what is in her dreams, especially something that could make such a strong person scream as though death were nipping at her heels.

I wonder what Lori would think of her. She probably wouldn't like how quiet Carly was, or how much she interacts with Carl and Judith. That is another thing I find strange about her, she hardly ever talks to us with happiness but will smile widely at the sight of Carl. Over the past month Carl has been constantly asking me to go hang out with Carly. It's been "Carly this," or "Carly that," for the entire month. Granted it's nice to see him somewhat happy again, but still it's weird.

I hope my decision to include Carly on the supply run doesn't horribly back fire one me. Seriously, I'm not sure how much more failure or loss one man can take. The only thing I really have left is this group.

-Carly's POV-

By the time I wake up it is dinner time so I quickly brush my hair and head to the prison yard where meals are usually had on nice days. The rest of the group is already present and it appears Glenn has saved me a seat between him and Rick. I give a reluctant sigh and take my seat. Different conversations swirl around me and I eat my food blissfully unaware, until Glen says something.

I didn't hear him and reply, "I'm sorry, what did you ask?"  
"Oh Rick was just asking if you might want to go on the supply run tomorrow. We'll only be gone a few days." Glen says in a chipper voice.

I look at Rick and say, "I don't know, I promised Carl I would go shoot with him later…."

Carl quickly cuts me off, "It's alright Carly we can go another time, and the group needs you."

I look at him surprised by his mature answer. Most ten year olds would insist on me keeping the promise I made prior. Hesitantly I answer, "I guess if Carl's alright with putting off our plans, I'll go. But I would prefer to carry a less conspicuous weapon when we go."

"That would be fine. We have an old Glock that no one is using currently, should be perfect for the job." Rick says with a casual nod.

"Alrighty then, now that's settled, what time should I be prepared to head out?"

"Be at the guard tower around seven o' clock. We have a long drive to get to the next town; don't want to get there too late."

After dinner is over those of us going on the run tomorrow head into the barracks to go to sleep. I find myself awake long after everyone's gone to bed. The task at hand has me nervous and on edge. I can't decide whether this is a sign that Rick trusts me, or if they are seeing whether or not I am trustworthy. Either way, if I don't do my job well I could very well destroy my last chance at relative normalcy.

I am brought out of my thoughts by the soft sound of crying next door. Rick's snoring is so loud that I doubt he will be able to hear Judith. Cautiously I sneak out of my cell and open the door to Rick's. Carl and Rick both lay squished on the bed and Judith cries quietly in her Pack-and-Play. For a moment I stare at Rick. His face doesn't hold the anxiety that always seems to be present when he is awake, making him look younger. I would be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to the man, but I'm pretty sure every woman in the camp is. How could they not be?

Quietly I go over to Judith and pick her up. The minute I do so she stops. This kid is a pro at getting attention that is for sure. I smile gently down at her. The shape of her face is very similar to Rick's but other than that she must look entirely like her mother.

Perhaps if this whole ordeal hadn't taken place I could see myself with a baby and a husband. But right now settling down doesn't seem like a possibility, or a wise choice. Hell I probably couldn't even hold a stable relationship right now; I can hardly hold myself together. Let alone support another person's emotions.

Judith begins to grow impatient in my arms so I decide to go on a short walk around this area of the prison. The moon casts light through several windows, illuminating the otherwise dark prison corridor. My blonde hair gives off an almost eerie glow in the moon's light, capturing Judith's attention. For some reason I get along very well with children, more so than I do with adults. Their more innocent view of the world is refreshing in a world with so few joys.

I lose track of time as I walk around the prison aimlessly with little Judith held snuggly in my arms. At some point during my pointless trek she fell asleep and is now drooling slightly on my arm, not that I care. The sound of frantic footsteps snaps me to attention and I immediately recede to the shadows. Suddenly, a frantic Rick burst into the corridor. He is about to take off again when I step out, "Rick? What are you doing?"

Rick jumps into the air and quickly wheels around to face me. He is about to say something when he spot Judith in my arms, "What are you doing with my child! I thought she had been taken or worse!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you. She was crying and you were asleep so I thought rather than wake you I would take care of her. It's not like you get all that much sleep with me screaming every single night. I was simply trying to be nice." I say quietly.

Rick runs a hand through his hair and nods, "No, it's me who should be saying sorry. I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that. Thank you for taking care of her."

I am tempted to say it was my fault for taking her but decide not to say anything further on whose fault it was. Instead I motion to the sleeping Judith in my arms and smile, "I would offer her to you but I'm afraid if I did so she would wake up again."

Rick gives a slight chuckle, "I suppose your right she's a very light sleeper. I'm actually pretty impressed that you got her back to sleep in the first place. It usually takes me all night. Her mother was so much better at taking care of baby than I am."

I feel a slight pang of sympathy run through me and for the first time it occurs to me that I never told him I was sorry for his loss. Hesitantly I decide that now is as good a time as any, "I'm sorry for your loss Rick. It's difficult losing those close to you."

He gives a sad shake of his head, "What do you know about loss. You're twenty-five years old."

I draw in a deep breath and decide to answer to prove a point more than anything, "My father was murdered when I was ten years old, and my mother died of cancer when I was twenty-three. I was by her bedside when she passed away. After she died my sister Lucy distanced herself from my brother and I, basically leaving me to take care of Jesse. I ended up failing him. His life became the very thing I never wished for him; I failed him in every way possible." I finish with a sigh.

Rick looks at me sadly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude, I just didn't know. You know, you and I seem to be in the same boat. We've both failed those closest to us and have nothing to show for our efforts."

I give a heavy sigh and a sad smile as I place Judith back into her crib. "I'll see you in the morning Rick, sorry ahead of time if I scream in my sleep."

Rick gives a light chuckle and replies, "Sleep well Carly, I'll see you in the morning or whenever I have to wake you up."

"Good night Rick."

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**Eeep! I'm really excited for the next chapter!**

**Tell me what you think about the chapter! The last scene might have seemed a little rushed, but that's how I intended it to be. Carly wasn't really trying to reveal much about her personal past, she was just showing that just because she's young doesn't mean she hasn't had her fair share of losses. The coming chapters will reveal more about her personally, and her growing attraction to Rick.**

**Stay Tuned!**

**ContestingGirl (The Most Awesome Person Ever)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four! I am excited for this chapter. It really reveals how close Carly has gotten with the group, and the fact that Rick might like her a little more than he lets on. Eeeep! Stuff is going to get good from here!**

**ContestingGirl**

My blonde hair w

* * *

hips against my face as the shiny new pick-up truck barrels down country road after country road. Michonne and Glenn sit silently at my side, neither saying a word. We've been on the road for about three hours now and are nearing the town that we are planning to scavenge. My stomach is twisting with nerves. I've never made a supply run with other people so I'm not so sure how well this is going to go.

My legs are stiff from being cramped up in the bed of the truck for so long, and my comrades don't seem to be in much better shape. Glenn's face is twisted with anxiety and Michonne looks like she's debating whether to shoot me or trust me. Let's just say that Michonne scares the shit out of me. I don't ever want to be on the receiving end of one of her deadly blows.

I feel like an outsider in this group, but hopefully that will change in the following days. Still, I'm not sure I can trust the group. There are a select few I am beginning to like more and more, them being Rick, Carl, Glenn, and Hershel. Apparently, the other people running around that I have had little to no interaction with are Woodbury refugees, for the most part. No one felt the need to tell me that possible enemies lay within our safe haven! See what I mean about being an outsider?

Slowly the tuck slows to a stop. Curiously, I poke my head around of the side of the cab to see an old faded sign. From where I am, I can't even make out the name of the town. Rick quickly hops from the driver's seat and begins to unload supplies. I jump from the truck bed and decide to go help. Glenn and Michonne wait a few moments before following suit.

As I approach, Rick gives me a very serious look and hands me a small handgun, "Don't use this unless you absolutely have to. It will attract every walker for miles if you do."

I give a small nod, somewhat perturbed by the fact that he seems to think I know nothing. Quickly I head over to the small amount of supplies we have brought and select a black backpack, similar to the one I lost about a month ago. Inside is a meager supply of crackers and dried beef, along with a few Band-Aids. All in all, it's not much but it will do for the few days we're scavenging.

"Alright. Everyone I want you to listen carefully," Rick shouts as he motions us over to a map spread across the hood of the truck, "Since there are only four of us on this run, we need to spread out in order to cover the most amount of area possible…"

Glenn gives him an incredulous look and cuts him off, "Split up? What happens if one of us runs into a herd? Personally, I'd feel safer if we went in pairs."

Rick gives a nod of his head, "I understand what you're sayin' Glenn, but we need to gather as much as possible and I don't think goin' in pairs is the best way to go about it."

Cautiously I decide to step into the conversation, "Rick. Listen to him; I know you don't want to have to come back out here for a couple months at the least. But I agree with him, what would we do if a herd surrounded us? Shoot ourselves in the head?"

Rick looks at me with dumbfound expression, "Of course I wouldn't want you to shoot yourself in the head…."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, "That's not what I'm trying to say. I'm saying that if you make us go by ourselves and we happen to stumble across a herd you'd leave us with no choice but to kill ourselves before we ended up being bitten, or eaten for that matter."

"Fine. Michonne you can be with me and Glenn will be with Carly. Any questions?" Rick says with a tone of finality.

Glenn and I both give terse nods of our heads before walking in the opposite direction of Rick and Michonne. Once we pass into the town, I notice how desolate it is. There are no cars on the road, like with many other towns and no walkers in sight. It looks almost as though everyone in this town made it out before things got bad, or at least made it to another area. I know it's unlikely that everyone in the town survived.

Glenn gives an almost angry sigh and turns to me, "Why don't you ever talk unless talked to?"

I give a shrug of my shoulders and continue walking.

"Seriously, you're so unnaturally quiet. It's unnerving to be around you because of it. Just the way you carry yourself is so….detached and uncaring. I can't stand it half the time."

"I'm not uncaring," I say with a scoff, "Just afraid to get attached, and with good reason." I say carefully.

Glenn throws his hands up in the air, "See! That's another thing about you. You always hint about your past but you never say anything revealing. What is so bad about your past that you can't share it with those around you?"

I clench my jaw and remain silent, until I see a street with houses, "Come on, and back to work. Those houses won't scavenge themselves."

Quickly I jog ahead of Glenn and walk into the nearest house. It looks as though it was once a nice home, but now it just looks neglected. My footsteps make the unkempt hardwood floors creak. Slowly I make my way towards the kitchen. The smell of rotten food hangs in the air like a thick cloud, making me gag. Flies swarm the fridge, but leave the pantry alone. Whoever lived here obviously didn't take much with them.

Glenn moves his way into the living room, while I make my way towards the pantry. The lower shelves are entirely filled with canned food; unfortunately the top shelves have chewed on boxes lining them. Quickly I begin to set what I can on the counter top and sort through what is good and what has expired. From that I choose the most nutrient rich foods, such as fruits or soups, and toss them in my back pack.

Cautiously, I make my way upstairs. The hall is lined with old photographs, some of a man and woman smiling and others of small children. My heart fills with sorrow. Life was so simple before all of this happened. Graduate school, get married, and have kids. The end. Now you have to fight for every single breath you breathe.

I wonder what my house looks like now. Its old cherry hardwood floors probably creak worse than these, and its white exterior is probably chipped. The yard is most likely overgrown with weeds as are the pastures I had wished to fill with championship caliber horses. Sadly, the whole property is probably overrun with biters as well. If only the world had not come to this.

A knock on the wall behind me makes me jump into the air and whirl around. Glenn is standing there with a sad expression on his face, "You alright?"

"Yeah. It's just…."

He gives a shake of his head, "I know what you mean. First run I ever made back in Atlanta, I walked into an apartment that had a little girl's room in it and broke down crying. It's hard to think that just a year and a half ago everything was alright. Life was so much easier back then," Glenn says as he heads into one of the bedrooms.

I give a solemn nod of my head and walk into the bathroom. Several tooth brushes sit on the counter, along with several tubes of tooth paste. Quickly I shove the tooth paste into my pack and bend down to inspect the cabinets beneath. There are several boxes of tampons which I don't hesitate to shove in my pack; you would be surprised how hard these little suckers are to come by. Other than that though there is little to find in the bathroom.

I meet up with Glenn in the living room and we decide to head out again. This house is nice, but it's not secure enough to spend the night in. Hopefully there will be a house with better locks on it somewhere in our area. Night isn't all too far away, and I don't want to find out what walks around at night around here.

-Later That Night-

After about two more hours of scavenging Glenn and I found a nice house to spend the night in. We will probably meet back here after every day and organize our findings. Glenn managed to pick up five heavy blankets, several articles of winter clothing, and some shoes today. I have found a ton of canned food items and toiletries. Plus I even managed to find a bottle of whisky! Usually whisky isn't my thing, but I haven't had a drink in God knows how long.

Glenn and I have been lounging in the living room of the house for the past hour taking turns sipping the whisky. I know I'm starting to get drunk, but I can't bring myself to stop. Glenn on the other hand passed drunk a long time ago. He keeps mumbling to himself and laughing at the oddest thing, which in turn makes me laugh at him. We are a sad pair at this point.

I at least have enough sense to withhold anymore alcohol from Glenn. He obviously can't hold his liquor well. I on the other hand have a much harder time stopping once I've started. A problem that has carried over from my teenage years. At this point I've probably downed close to a third of the bottle.

Glenn giggles oddly from beside me, "So you never did tell me what's so bad about your past. What'd you do, kill someone?"

I take another sip of whisky and decide to answer him, not like he'll remember in the morning anyway. "Nope. Worse, I got my best friend killed when I was seventeen. Went to a party one night and she got drunker than a dog, on the way home a drunk driver swerved into our lane. I was so tired that I hardly had time to jerk the wheel. She died on impact and I spent two months in a coma."

Glenn snorts, "That's not your fault. Here I was thinking you were some badass arms dealer or something."

I laugh at his words, "You have no idea."

"How was your life even hard? You got a full ride for track to a good college, got a good job, and probably were living the dream. Me, I was working a pizza joint in Atlanta trying to make ends meet."

I shake my head, "Sure I might've had all those things, but you're wrong about it being easy. I've lost a lot of people in my life Glenn; Dad, Mom, Liz. Not to mention the fact that I was a disgrace to my older sister! Or, the fact I ruined my baby brother's life. I am like poison in the lives of others. Some days I even wonder why I keep trying to go on. The world would be a better place without me, no doubt about it."

Glenn tries to point a finger at me but can't hold up his arm because he's so drunk and settles for just talking instead, "Don't say that about yourself! You're a great person. Hell, Rick wouldn't have let you live if he didn't think there was something good about you, then again you are pretty. Maybe that's why he saved you, cause he thinks you're pretty!" Glenn bursts out laughing at the last part, as though he has found the secret to the universe.

My own shoulder's shake with laughter, "Like a guy like him would find me pretty! I mean have you seen him? He is gorgeous."

Suddenly our walkie-talkie that we sat on the end table crackles to life and Rick's voice shouts over the end, "Glenn, Carly! Get back to the truck. NOW! There's another group in the town and they're heavily armed and all men. They are pretty close to your area so be careful when you try to get back."

Glenn swipes his hand at the device, eventually grabbing hold of it and half laughs half cries into the speaker, "Carly doesn't want to live cause she thinks she's a bad person! An-and she thinks that…."

I know what he's going to say next and try to pounce on him. In my drunken state I totally miss him and go slamming into the floor. Glenn burst into laughter besides me and drops the walkie-talkie.

On the other end Rick roars with anger, "ARE YOU TWO DRUNK!"

My head spins with dizziness as I go to pick up the walkie-talkie. Desperately I chant to myself to speak coherent thoughts. My efforts are wasted though because all I can do when I try to talk is laugh and mumbling absentmindedly, "The room…it's spinning….and it's filled with…pretty colors…."

Rick, rather than sounding pissed, now sounds frantic, "Carly listen to me!"

I nod my head vigorously, not remembering that he can't see me.

"Carly are you still there?"

His question makes me remember that he isn't actually there, "Oh, yea that's right walkie-talkie. I'm all arms Rick….wait a minute….scratch that. I'm all ears." I say making sure to emphasize the last sentence.

"Carly, get Glenn and get out of there. Do you understand? You will die if you don't get out of there!" He says in a panicked voice.

His fear makes me feel slightly more sober and I give a coherent response, "Ok, I'll do what I can but Rick my vision sucks right now. Like seriously, the entire room is double vision. I don't know how far I'll be able to get. Glenn hasn't had as much to drink as me, but he is a little giggly."

Rick gives a pained sigh, "Just try your best Carly, and pour some water on Glenn that should sober him up pretty quick."

"Alright. I'll try to get Glenn back to you in one piece."

"Don't forget about yourself Carly, you're part of our group too." Rick says quietly.

Quickly I rush into the kitchen and try not to trip over my own two feet. Somehow I manage to get there in one piece, and locate a large pot. It takes all my strength to carry it back into the living room filled with water. Once I'm in there Glenn gives me a curious look until I dump the water on him.

He jumps into the air shouting, "What'd you do that for?"

I slump against the wall as my vision goes worse and try to make a coherent sentence, "Y-you were drunk. And giggling like a school girl."

Glenn no longer laughs at my slurred speech, instead he realizes, "You're really drunk aren't you?"

I give him the best no-duh expression I can muster and sarcastically reply, "No shit Sherlock. What gave it away the fact I can't walk….or the fact I can hardly t-t-talk."

Glenn quickly looks to the bottle of whisky, and having no better option for the amount of time we have pours it over my head. The coolness of it does help me to think a little more coherently but my vision and coordination still suck. Plus I now smell of whisky stronger than before. Quickly Glenn wraps his arms around my waist and guides me out the door.

We make it to the woods before I stumble and fall, taking a bewildered and slightly drunk Glenn with me. Fear rushes over me like a waterfall of cool water at the sound of familiar male voices. They are the same men who stole my supplies and tried to shoot me that fateful night a month or so ago.

The adrenaline now rushing through my veins has made me surprisingly sober and I desperately push Glenn into a full out sprint. He is clearly surprised by my sudden sobriety, but doesn't question it. My legs don't feel as though they are attached to my body and I find myself having a hard time keeping up with Glenn.

When I stumble again I know there is no way both of us will make it back at this rate, if either of us. The sound of thundering footsteps makes me turn frantically to Glenn, "Run! Glenn, get out of here…."

Glenn growls quietly at me, "I'm not leaving without you!"

"I'm not asking, Glenn! Go! I'll make a diversion and meet you at the truck. We have to split up or we'll never make it!"

Quickly he bends down so that his dark eyes are even with my own grey ones, "Promise me you'll be at the truck….."

I give a sigh, "Glenn, you know I can't…."

His eyes shine with ferocity, "PROMISE ME! You're my friend Carly, and if you expect me to leave without your promise that you'll be alright then you are crazier than I thought."

I am surprised by his words but find enough in me to answer, "I promise. And Glenn, if means anything you're my friend too."

With a solemn nod he turns sharply and sprints off in the direction of the truck. My vision bends oddly but I manage to push myself to my feet. The sounds of footsteps are so close that I can hear exactly where they're coming from. Quickly I turn in their direction only to see several armed blobs barreling towards me. With what little coherency I have left I sprint in the opposite direction. Legs don't fail me now or Glenn for that matter.

-Rick's POV-

BANG! The sound of a lone gunshot puts me on alert. Is it Glenn and Carly killing a lone walker? Or, are they in trouble?

Suddenly, Glenn bursts from the woods drenched from the shoulders up in water. His face is contorted with an emotion I cannot read from this distance. I wait with my eyes trained on the woods for Carly to appear, she does not. Fear imbeds itself in my stomach. Where is she?

Glenn runs up alongside the truck. From my spot in the driver's seat I can see the grief that clouds his face. In barely concealed panic I shout, "Where is she?"

He shakes his head, "She knew the men. I could tell by the panic in her eyes. She tried to sprint with me but fell. I didn't want to….but she told me to leave her. Said we would have better shots if we split up. I figured that she knew what she was talking about if she knew them but…" Glenn lets out an angry sob, "That gunshot…there's no way she outran the men. She could hardly see she had so much alcohol in her…." Glenn trails off and kicks one of the tires in anger.

My own body feels numb. Glenn in his drunken state had said something about Carly being something close to suicidal. If what he said was true it wouldn't surprise me she did what she did, saving someone else by giving her own life.

What will I say to Carl? To the rest of the group? "Oh, the woman you all thought was crazy sacrificed herself to save Glenn." They'll all laugh at the thought. Most of them will probably say she went off with the other group, or was a spy to begin with.

I have grown attached to the attractive young woman, far more than I've let on. She may have been strange but she was kind and intelligent, powerful in her own right. Despite the evidence that supports the fact she is most likely dead, I tell the group that we will stay until we absolutely must go. If there is any chance she is alive, I don't want to leave her behind.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

-Carly POV-

The men are so close that I can almost feel their breath. In desperation I fire my gun into a nearby tree, in hopes a few stray biters will be drawn to the noise and kill my pursuers. I stumble into a nearby tree and blink rapidly to clear the black spots from my vision. If I hadn't promised Glenn I would be at the truck I would've given up a long time ago, but I don't break promises.

I can see the end of the tree line in sight. My head feels as though it is about to explode. The only thing keeping me going is knowing that the group is hopefully waiting for me. Suddenly a thought occurs to me. I can't run out there with three men chasing me, each man heavily armed. It could mean death for my friends.

In that instant I make perhaps the most difficult decision of my life. Quickly I plant my foot and wheel to face my attackers. With a steady hand and suddenly clear vision I take aim and pull the trigger. BANG! One down. BANG! Two down. BANG! Three down.

For a second I just stand there looking at the three men I just killed. Each has a neat bullet hole through the head; none will come back as biters. My entire body shakes and I don't know how I'm going to make it back to the truck. On instinct alone, my legs begin to move.

Slowly I emerge from the woods into the moonlight; my hands are still twitching oddly. I'm not sure whether I want to scream or cry. Suddenly I hear a loud shout and the next thing I know I'm being tackled to the ground. The night sky blurs and spins in my vision prompting only one thought from me, "I am never, ever going to drink again."

Somewhere to my left I hear a deep chuckle that could only belong to Rick. Gingerly I push a hysterical semi- drunk Glenn of off me and approach Rick. His face shows obvious relief, which I wasn't expecting. Seriously, I was looking for something a little more like anger.

I tilt my head to the side in a curious manner and ask, "You're not mad?"

Rick shakes his head at me, "How could I? I'm just glad you're alive quite frankly. For a second there we thought you were dead."

The sincerity and gentleness in his voice shocks me and I give a sad smile, "For a second there I thought I was a goner and I was prepared to be one, but then I remembered a promise I made. I don't break promises." I say with a smile towards Glenn.

Suddenly Rick seems to realize something, "Where are the men?"

"Dead." I say in a detached, monotone voice. My face is pale and I again I feel as though I am about to break. Killing goes against everything I believe in, it was the only thing left that I hadn't done.

I feel myself stiffen when Rick envelopes me in a huge, but eventually find myself sobbing into his shoulder. We stay like that for a while. Me just sobbing into his shoulder like a two year old. Tomorrow I will probably regret this, but right now it just feels good to have someone holding me while I cry. It doesn't hurt that, that someone is the insanely handsome Rick Grimes.

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**Eeeep!**

**Excited for what's to come? I am! The fact that Carly's now killed people will add an interesting element that I can play around with. Also, she nearly gave her own life to save Glenn's which will hopefully prove her worthy in the eyes of the rest of the group. That being said, there may be some Carly and Daryl reconciliation in the following chapter!**

**Okay, So I absolutely loved writing the scene where Glenn and Carly are drunk! I think some of the things they are say are really amusing, but then again I wrote it. That scene also revealed more about Carly's past, mostly because she intended Glenn to forget it all but at this point I think Glenn might not forget as much as she hopes. Also, it reveals that Carly has some dark thoughts about herself and her contributions to society. Rick also find this out thanks to a drunk Glenn, which could add some more interesting elements to the whole Rick/Carly relationship.**

**I feel like the story is really going to pick up from this point on and hope you stick around to meet some of my other OC's who will come into play!**

**ContestingGirl**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi! Sorry for the long break in between chapters, and the fact this one is very short. I literally just wrote this after track practice today, so the quality of this might be a little sub par. After having such a long time for an update I decided I really should write something before League Meets and State Qualifying starts. This chapter might be short but it does introduce a new OC and goes more in depth on another that has been briefly mentioned. Please review and follow!**

**ContestingGirl**

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My footsteps echo down the long corridor of the prison barracks. Rick and the rest of the group is currently moving towards the more infested area of the prison while Maggie, Beth, and I wait to catch any strays that break through the lines. It has been a month since the failed supply run and a two since I finally decided that what I had done was the only viable option. The first two weeks were bad- really bad. At first I thought I couldn't live with what I had done, but Rick quickly put me to work which gave me no time to think any more of my self-hatred.

Daryl and I have had several semi-friendly conversations, and I'm pretty sure I'm beginning to earn his trust. After the rest of the group heard what I did to save Glenn they began to trust me a lot more. Maggie and I have become close friends, as have her younger sister Beth and I. Carol is kinder towards me, though I think she isn't fast to trust people much like I am. Glenn and I have become seemingly inseparable. By day you can find us cracking jokes, and by night telling old "war" stories around the fire. Sometimes I catch Rick staring at me, but I pretend not to notice. I think he is just making sure I don't snap. Overall, life isn't too bad considering the situation. I have settled into a sort of pattern that makes it almost easy to forget that just beyond the prison walls lies a world filled with the walking dead.

Maggie shifts anxiously besides me, drawing my thoughts to the present. Her green eyes shift uncomfortably along the corridor as though she is expecting an entire herd to jump through the door at the far end.

"Maggie, are you alright? You look a little nervous." I say hesitantly.

"I'm fine. Just worried is all." She replies in a jittery voice.

"As long as you say so, but don't freeze up on me and leave me to fend for myself."

Maggie scoffs besides me, "This ain't my first rodeo cowgirl."

I give a large grin, "Ain't my first either."

To my somewhat cheeky reply, Maggie simply rolls her eyes. Suddenly the door at the far end bangs open and Rick steps out. I look at him curiously and am about to ask him why he's here when he says, "I figured you guys could use some help….just in case, of course."

I roll my eyes, "Of course."

"What's that supposed to mean," Rick says irritably.

"We can take care of ourselves Rick. They need you more back there than we do up here."

"She's right Rick. We're alright by ourselves, you can go back to the others if you want," Maggie pipes in.

Rick mumbles something under his breath and then grumbles, "I'd rather just stay now that I'm here. Don't wanna waste any time running around like a lunatic."

Maggie shrugs her shoulders and replies, "Suite yourself."

I give a yawn and slide down the wall to sit on the ground. Carefully I rest my rifle on my lap and face the door. I don't understand why we're working so hard to clear this prison. Personally, I think we should pack up shop and move. It was relatively easy for me to sneak in, and I would've gotten away with it if I hadn't cut my leg on the fence. What's stopping a large group from getting in and killing us? What about the Governor?

Glenn gave me the full story about a week ago regarding the Governor. When he finished telling me I couldn't believe Rick had decided to stay here. Sure it's secure for the most part but the Governor could easily come back. That man is a like a post-apocalyptic Hitler, he can convince anyone. What's stopping him from convincing a whole new group of people to come massacre use? Nothing.

I've tried talking to Rick several times about the matter but he just brushes me off. My idea is doable too. If we syphon off enough fuel before we leave from cars in Woodbury we can make it easily out of Georgia. Then every time there's a car on the road we syphon its fuel to keep up a decent supply. If we keep doing that, I think we could make it up to Tennessee or even Ohio if we're lucky.

"Why are we doing this, Rick?" I say tiredly.

He frowns and asks, "Doing what?"

"Clearing all the walkers from this place. We could move some place better."

Rick gives an exasperated sigh, "We've talked about this before Carly."

"No we haven't, Rick. I've done the talking while you've brushed me off," I say angrily, "Give me one good reason to stay."

"It safe." Rick replies tersely.

"Not really! The Governor could come back at any time, or someone else could try to take this place! I almost got away with it. If I can what's stopping a larger group?"

"You're you. I doubt anyone else could get in."

"I'm me! What kind of explanation is that?"

Rick growls, "The only one you're going to get! I don't have to explain myself to you."

"I thought you'd want a better life for your son and daughter than growing up in a prison! But I guess I was wrong!" I say angrily before turning on my heel and barging through the door towards the group fighting the walkers.

-Page Break-

Meanwhile on a Farm in Rural Ohio

My boot clad feet crunch against the gravel drive as I walk towards the old white farmhouse at the center of the farm I've found refuge on since the world went to shit. My boyfriend of one month at the time started a refugee center of sorts here and has been the leader ever since. We broke up not long after the world went to hell, but have remained close. I am his best intelligence gatherer, and as a farmer's daughter I know the ins and outs of crop growing.

This farm used to be his sister's before this whole ordeal, but she has yet to turn up. It is a nice property with good pastures for cattle and horses. In the two years that have passed we have built several small cabins close to the original house that the several families living here call home. Horses fill the pastures, as do cattle. Since gas is hard to come by, if we need to leave the farm we take some of the horses. Life is pretty good here on the farm, compared to the lives of others of course.

Quickly I bound up the stairs to the porch and push open the old screen door into the front hall. My head turns to the mirror just inside the door to inspect my appearance. I have light blue eyes, jet black hair, and pale skin. Overall, I'm pretty good looking. The one thing I hate about my appearance is my height; I barely reach five feet tall. Oh well, can't change genetics I guess.

Expertly I maneuver my way down the cramped hall into the living room. A muscular frame with shaggy blonde hair and suntanned arms bends over a map in the center of the room, oblivious to my presence. My cover is quickly blown by the old creaking hardwood floors. Immediately his head snaps up and his electric blue eyes meet mine. His stance quickly relaxes and a smile appears on his handsome face.

"Hey Jesse! Mica said you needed to see me?" I say curiously.

His smile quickly fades and his face turns serious, "Yes, I wanted to talk to you about a pressing matter."

My brows furrow and I can't help but ask, "What matter? Is there a hole in the fence or something? Are walkers getting in?"

"Not exactly," He says with a shake of his head, "I want to talk about my sister."

"Your sister?" I say slowly.

Jesse replies impatiently, "Yes."

"What about her?"

"I want to find her."

"What! You can't leave the farm! That's a suicide mission. For all you know she's dead."

"I know she could be dead, but Carly's strong. If anyone can survive this thing it's her."

I put my hands on my hips and say, "Well if she's alive why hasn't she come back?"

"She was in Atlanta when the epidemic hit there, maybe she got stranded!" He bites back.

I shake my head in disagreement, "She could've easily syphoned fuel out of cars on the highway."

"What if she took the back roads to avoid the traffic jams?"

"That's a big if Jesse."

"Still, that would mean fewer cars so she wouldn't have been able to find more fuel most likely."

"I guess, but how would she find food? Tell me that."

"She's a good hunter. I don't doubt she could find her own food, "Jesse replies matter of factly.

I grumble, "Carly didn't drag a weapon with her on vacation did she, so how would she have hunted?"

That is the last straw because Jesse is suddenly seething with anger, "SHE IS NOT DEAD!"

Quickly a shrink back against the wall. Anger and pain are obvious in his expressive eyes. I feel a slight pang of sympathy for him, but the fear running through my veins outweighs the empathy I feel for him. Slowly he regains control and runs a hand through his tousled hair.

"Sorry," he says quietly, "I just…."

"Lost it." I say irritably.

Jesse gives a tired sigh and hangs his head. "I just have to find her, Liz. She's all I've got left. Lucy and her family died pretty early on, Carly's the only one still alive. Or, at least I hope she's alive."

"Fine," I say with an exasperated sigh, "I'll let you go, but I'm coming with you."

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** Again I apologize for the brevity of this chapter and the fact that the part in Carly's POV was so short. How did you like Jesse though? In my mind he is smokin' hot, like swoon worth gorgeous! Then again, I like my blonde guys. Also, what did you think of Liz? I haven't really though of much of a back story for her yet, but expect more in the coming chapters.**

**Let me know how you like my OC's. They need some more developing, but I have a whole story to do it in and I have just begun. Please review and follow!**

**ContestingGirl the Extremely Busy**


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